


Is This Called Living (Or Something Else)?

by gilscout



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentions of Zack Fair, PIV, Smoking, Some sort of AU, Trans Character, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex, because of the alcohol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22574686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilscout/pseuds/gilscout
Summary: "He wishes he had the guts to do what I've done to you."
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Is This Called Living (Or Something Else)?

**Author's Note:**

> quick warning for mentioned morning after pill  
> pls note that sephiroth manipulates cloud throughout the fic, and this is not meant to be a healthy relationship  
> as much as possible consent is given but it is mentioned that they have sex while drunk, so if that makes you uncomfortable skip this one  
> this was written as a vent fic so be careful  
> title from amsterdam by daughter

Warm smiles and calloused hands ring in your memory as you knock back another shot. Not your usual pick, but it will do the job. Soon you’ll be drunk enough that you can push the memories away. 

Your thighs itch, and the fingers of your right hand flex where they rest against the counter. You shift, and you can feel the still healing wounds on your hips tug against their bandages. You’ll have to put more down later. Right now you are still far too sober.

You stay at the bar doing shots long enough that a small crowd starts to form, cheering you on. One man in particular catches your eye. You know him from somewhere, though your mind is too hazy to place where. He approaches you. 

By morning you won’t be able to recount how you got to his apartment, but you will feel the ache in your lower body and know what you did. You know that much already. The night passes in a blur of teeth and somewhere along the way you lose your binder and the man touches your chest. 

You almost sober up at that point, enough to growl at him to keep his hands away at least. He doesn’t seem too fussed with your reaction, but he doesn’t touch your chest again so you count that as a win. 

By the end of it you’re dripping in cum. Some of it is leaking out of you, you notice numbly. You groan in disgust at yourself, and flop your head back against a pillow too soft to be your own. Before you can wonder where you ended up, the door to the room clicks open, and the man from the previous night walks in, naked save for the towel hanging low on his hips.

He’s tall, taller than you, with long, light hair, and oh. That’s why you thought you knew him. He’s Zack’s old partner. He smiles at you, and there’s a hint of cruelty at the edges. 

“Sleep well?” He asks, and you scowl. 

He sits down on the bed next to you, and damn could you go for a cigarette right now. You’ve never been a big smoker, but your head is pounding and this man is making memories surface that you don’t have the energy or mental capacity to deal with right now. 

He seems to have the same thought, pulling a box from his bedside table and lighting one up. Graciously he offers you one, and you grunt in acceptance. He takes a long drag before he speaks.

“I have some morning after pills if you want one.” 

You recognize that he isn’t asking. Whatever, not like you would have refused. 

You sit in silence for a long while, finishing your cigarettes and lighting new ones, finishing those as well. Only as he pulls out his third cig does the man speak again. 

“What would he think, if he saw you now?” 

You don’t have to ask to know what he's talking about. 

“Shut up,” You mutter absently, hands fidgeting with nothing to occupy them. The man does not offer you another cigarette. 

“Drinking yourself half to death, slicing your own flesh like that of the enemy, behaving like a whore.” 

You notice absently that your hands are shaking. You don’t respond. 

“He wishes he had the guts to do what I’ve done to you.”

“Shut  _ up.” _

“You’re all he ever talked about. He wanted you so badly, and what would he think if he saw you last night, begging for my cock like a slut?” 

“He didn’t—”

“He did. Oh the things he wanted to do to you. He would be so much worse to you than I was. You could have been his favorite cumrag if you weren’t so dense.”

“He wouldn’t—”

“Think of you like that? What do you know about how he saw you? Only what he told you. I know what he didn’t tell you.”

At this the man smirks dangerously, leaning over and taking your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. 

“Do you want to know?” 

“Let go of me,” You grind out, and the man chuckles, but drops his hand. 

“Shame, I could show you what you missed out on.” 

You’re trembling, and you know he has you right where he wants him. You find you care less than you should. Part of you wants to believe him, to believe that Zack wanted you. Even if only as a warm body to get off on. Part of you wants to let him show you. 

“Cloud,” He says, and you’re pretty sure it's the first time he’s said your name since you arrived at his apartment, “Let yourself go; I’ll show you just what he wanted from you.” 

You should say no. You should get up and leave. You should get out of here. Tifa is probably worried about you. You should—and yet you hear yourself saying: 

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> next chapter is explicit they just fuck


End file.
